


Hold Your Breath

by Autobratty



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Haven't I written a fic with the same premise as this before, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, PTSD, Spoilers for MTMTE 55
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-28
Updated: 2016-09-28
Packaged: 2018-08-18 06:51:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,049
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8152927
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Autobratty/pseuds/Autobratty
Summary: Rodimus had a lot of flowers surrounding his statue. Not nearly as many as Megatron or Optimus, but…there were still millions.Both Megatron and Optimus - Orion, at the time - had assured Rodimus that he made the right choice to not let his people fall by Zeta’s hands, and that good leaders were the ones who were able to make the hard decisions.That, however, did not make Rodimus feel any less guilty.





	

**Author's Note:**

> _You are the risk I'll always take_  
>  _The only branch I'll never break_  
>  _Those fears - we'll blow them all away_  
>  _We'll blow them all away_  
>  \- Ellie Goulding, “I’ll Hold My Breath”
> 
> Semi-inspired by this: http://squids-in-disguise.tumblr.com/post/130835093852/do-you-really-think-that-rodimus-has-ever-come-to

The air was still acrid with the stench of burnt rubber and spilled energon, laden with cloying smoke and ash. Embers still floated down from the sky, settling on what was left of the crushed, grayed flowers that littered the ground.

Rodimus had slipped out of the fortress the evening of the day after the battle, seemingly unnoticed. There was something he wanted to find while they were still here, however long that may be.

However, he hadn’t accounted for the fact that nothing escaped Megatron’s notice.

The weary mech excused himself from Terminus’ presence, the first time he’d left his old friend and mentor’s side since he had made his shocking appearance. Once outside, Megatron squinted his optics as the last dredges of sunlight bore down over the land, bright and warm and beautiful. The light almost made the planet seem alive, despite the fact that all the energy had been drained from the flowers for the fortress’s protective field.

Rodimus was nowhere in sight, but Megatron had a feeling where the younger mech might be.

It wasn’t too long of a walk until he crested a hill and was able to see the shapely form of his co-captain in the middle distance, the last gasp of sunlight glimmering on Rodimus’ plating, looking like flames dancing across his armor as they had in battle. As Megatron approached, his heavy footfalls shattering brittle, lifeless flowers beneath his feet, Rodimus didn’t move, although he was surely able to hear the much larger mech approaching.

As Megatron suspected, the former Prime had sought out his statue, and was curled up at the foot of it, knees drawn tight to his chassis and his head buried in his arms.

At first, the ex-warlord remained silent as he gazed out over the field, shadows beginning to stretch across the land. After a few minutes standing in silence, Megatron carefully sat down, battle-worn joints straining and creaking. He hadn’t felt this old in…well, ever.

Resting back against the statue with a grunt, Megatron studied the scene before him: Rodimus had a _lot_ of flowers surrounding his statue. Not nearly as many as Megatron or Optimus, but…there were still _millions._

Megatron closed his eyes, a single memory engulfing his processor: Nyon.

Rodimus’ home, the city the young mech had burned to the ground to save the citizens from having their sparks siphoned by Zeta Prime and used to power the Vamparc Ribbons outfitted to his Omega Destructors - massive weapons designed to create an endless circuit of death and destruction. Both Megatron and Optimus - Orion, at the time - had assured Rodimus that he made the right choice to not let his people fall by Zeta’s hands, and that good leaders were the ones who were able to make the hard decisions.

That, however, did not make Rodimus feel any less guilty. Megatron could empathize.

At last, Megatron glanced over at Rodimus, now noticing a slight tremble in the smaller mech’s frame. Letting out a small sigh, the former warlord gently settled a large dark hand over the center of the speedster’s back. That seemed to be the trigger, tipping Rodimus over the edge, his carefully held-back emotions spilling out.

His voice hitched and his frame jerked, and though Megatron at first thought Rodimus was trying to shake off his touch, he was stunned when the scarlet mech twisted around on his knees and buried his face against Megatron’s broad, heavily scarred chassis.

Rodimus pressed his nose against the Autobrand in the center of Megatron’s chest, hands coming up to clutch at wide gunmetal-gray shoulders as his frame wracked with quiet sobs. He shuddered violently, seemingly trying to hide as much of himself against Megatron’s armor as he could.

At first, Megatron had been too stunned to do anything but sit there with a dumb look on his face - _this_ he hadn’t seen coming. After a moment or so of battling himself internally, Megatron gave in to the embrace, slipping his thick arms around Rodimus’ slim, sunset-colored waist.

It sounded like Rodimus was trying to say something, but Megatron couldn’t quite make it out. He simply held the former prime close, stroking his spoiler comfortingly. It was beyond surreal: Megatron, who had once shot this young mech point-blank in the chassis, guttering his spark; had it not been for the Matrix of Leadership chained around his neck at the time, the bot in his arms wouldn’t be alive.

As if reading his thoughts, Rodimus’ fritzing vocalizer cleared up enough to manage, “Shouldn’t be…”

Megatron opened his eyes - when had he shut them? - and looked down at Rodimus. Here in the ex-warlord’s massive embrace, he looked so small, so delicate. Megatron felt a sudden impulse to protect him from anything and everything. “Shouldn’t be what, Rodimus?”

“Mrm…”

“Rodimus?”

“…Shouldn’t be alive.”

“Rodimus…”

When the red and gold mech began to struggle in his arms, Megatron immediately loosened his grip, but didn’t quite let go. “Shoulda died with my people… If I couldn’ta saved ‘em, I shoulda just died with them…it would’ve been right…was selfish of me to walk away…”

With a sigh, Megatron cupped Rodimus’ cheek in one large hand and turned his head so that he could look into the other’s eyes. He studied the other’s wide blue optics, brimming with coolant, for a moment before speaking. “It wasn’t selfish of you. There was no way for you to escort a hundred people out of that city in that small frame of time, let alone the millions that lived there. You never even _knew_ most of the people that resided in Nyon, and yet after all this time, you still carry the weight of each of their sparks on your back, don’t you?” Megatron’s voice softened near the end, seeing that more coolant had begun to spill over onto Rodimus’ cheeks.

Megatron sighed and used his thumb to wipe some of the tears from his co-captain’s face, all for them to be replaced by more. Unlike before, however, Rodimus trembled with silent sobs, eyes squeezing together tightly, pushing more coolant out from under his eyelids. “Oh, Rodimus…”

“Don’t tell me it wasn’t my fault, old man!” Rodimus screamed suddenly; however he did not budge from where he had molded himself against Megatron’s chassis. “I’m the one who killed them! Their flowers are _here_ , under _my_ statue! _I’m_ the murderer!”

Rodimus lie there in Megatron’s arms, quietly bawling his optics out, and Megatron let him, until he could do so no more. The former Decepticon whispered reassurances to him as he cried until he’d completely wiped out his coolant reserves.

Reduced to a whimpering puddle and hiccuping once in awhile, Rodimus was now completely exhausted. By then, the sun had gone down and the two of them sat in the darkness, stars twinkling distantly above them. When he finally opened his eyes, the smaller mech was surprised to find Megatron with his own eyes closed, appearing to be in recharge. And yet, even as he slept, the mech who had ruthlessly destroyed the DJD just over 24 hours ago cradled Rodimus close but gently, as if he was something special that needed to be protected, but that he had to be oh-so-careful not to break.

He reached up and touched Megatron’s cheek: it felt damp. Rodimus dialed up the brightness of his optics so that he could see the other’s features better, and was shocked to find one glimmering streak of coolant leading down from Megatron’s left optic. He couldn’t quite place exactly why, but the sight broke Rodimus’ spark. Megatron? The strong miner, the undefeated gladiator, the brash leader of the rebellion against the Senate, the merciless Decepticon warlord… He’d shed a tear, even if only one, just for him.

Rodimus was both touched and crushed by the realization.

When he began to wriggle around in Megatron’s arms, the sleeping mech cracked an optic open, red light spilling over his cheek. He loosened his grip, assuming that Rodimus was trying to break free, but he instead did the opposite. Rodimus had shifted to kneel before him, gazing up into his weathered face as if seeing him for the first time, and placed small golden hands against the other’s broad chassis.

“Rodimus…?” Megatron whispered.

“Yeah?” he whispered back.

Megatron opened his other optic, squinting in the light of Rodimus’. The younger mech dialed the intensity back down as red gazed into blue. “What’re you doing?”

“Something I should’ve done before now.”

Rodimus rose on his knees and shuttered his optics, and before Megatron could even process what was happening, the former prime had covered dry, cracked lips with his own soft, supple ones.

As wrong as he knew it was, something broke inside Megatron, and instead of gently pushing Rodimus away (as he should have), he covered the tiny hands on his chassis with his own massive, heavily scarred ones. His lips yielded to Rodimus’, whose parted to release a small sigh filled with both gentle pleasure and relief. He tipped his chin up so that Megatron wouldn’t have to crane his neck to kiss him, and the older mech moved one hand to Rodimus’ newly exposed neck, dipping his fingers below the scarlet collar to gently stroke the other’s neck cables. Rodimus shivered, and Megatron thought he’d overstepped himself, but then Rodimus pressed _closer_ and his engine let out a soft rumble.

Slowly but surely, the kiss deepened until Rodimus was cradled in Megatron’s arms, being kissed soundly by the ex-Decepticon, glossae swirling around each other, and when Rodimus nipped Megatron’s lower lip, he was rewarded by Megatron giving his tongue a hard suck. He moaned into his co-captain’s mouth, golden spoiler fluttering with delight, and let out a low whine when Megatron pulled back slightly. He chased his lips with his own, but Megatron placed a finger over them, hushing the other mech. The finger was all that separated their lips from one another.

“You,” Megatron murmured, stroking up and down Rodimus’ spinal strut, earning him the most beautiful arcs of the former prime’s body, “are exquisite.” He pressed a kiss into the center of Rodimus’ chestplates, directly over his spark. The younger mech gasped, eyes fluttering until he drew his gaze up to meet Megatron’s, whose optics smoldered with a tame sort of desire - not a desire for interface, but one for simply this, just for this closeness. His EM field, usually pulled taught to his frame, had extended and to envelop Rodimus with strong pulses of _yearning/adoration/joy_. Rodimus’ field responded with a wave of reciprocation, of _longing/relief/happiness_

“Thank you,” he whispered, barely audible.

“What for, my little Prime?”

The fond title made Rodimus’ spark soar. “For comforting me. For being here for me. For…” He gestured vaguely at the two of them, and Megatron chuckled. “Thank you, too, Rodimus.”

It was Rodimus’ turn to be confused. “For what?” All he’d done was cry.

“For last night. For convincing me once again that I am not ready to close the book on my life.” Megatron pressed a kiss to Rodimus’ helm crest almost reverently. “For saving me, despite all I have done in the past. I would not be here now without your intervention.”

Rodimus could feel the sincerity behind Megatron’s words, and it made his spark melt. “I’m not sure if you did it because you’ve forgiven me - I don’t expect you to ever fully do so - but all the same, I am grateful beyond what I can express with mere words.”

“Then show me.”

Megatron smiled, field blooming with a genuine desire to do so. “It would be both a pleasure and an honor, my Prime.” He held Rodimus closer and kissed him again, gently but passionately, and Rodimus returned it in kind, wrapping his arms around Megatron’s neck.

Now that they were finally free of the DJD, perhaps they would have the chance to be together, however long that may be. They both knew that Megatron was living on borrowed time, but for now, none of that mattered. Rodimus and Megatron simply held each other close under the blanket of the stars, forgetting the rest of the universe at least for a moment.

And in that moment, both of them were finally at peace.

**Author's Note:**

> I KNOW I KNOW, THIS HAS A VERY SIMILAR PREMISE TO 'OLD WOUNDS', BUT I JUST CAN'T GET ENOUGH OF THE IDEA OF MEGS HELPING RODDY GET THROUGH THE WHOLE NYON THING
> 
> For more Megarod content, follow me at megaroddy.tumblr.com  
> To just chat, RP, or request a fic, follow me at justroddythings.tumblr.com


End file.
